


Silk

by Ambie (noonvraith)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 07:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noonvraith/pseuds/Ambie
Summary: short fluff drabble based on a tumblr prompt c:





	Silk

**Author's Note:**

> short fluff drabble based on a tumblr prompt c:

„I don’t know, Anarietta,“ Gwenuviel said, critically observing the night gown, “ _silk_?”

“I’m positively sure it’ll look wonderful on you, my dear.” The duchess crossed the room gracefully, taking the clothing in her arms and comparing it to the witcheress’s posture.  
Gwen didn’t still look entirely convinced. She knew better than to look the gift horse in the mouth, but then, the elf wasn’t used to such exclusive clothing. If she had her way, she’d still sleep in her ordinary long linen shirt. But that was before she met Anarietta. The duchess often frowned at her sleepwear choices and as Gwen’s visits to her chambers became more frequent, Anarietta made sure to provide her with ‘suitable’ clothing for someone of her stature. ‘I won’t let my lover freeze in these pitiful rags’ she said in one of these tones of hers that meant a ‘no’ wouldn’t suffice as an answer. That was all fine and good, Gwen thought, but _silk_?

“It’s unnecessarily long,” she pointed out, “and looks very expensive. It looks more like a dress than a something one could sleep in.”

The duchess rolled her eyes in disapproval. “That’s because you are used to sleep in shirts.”

“Won’t I look ridiculous in it?”

“Absolutely not. I’ve got it tailored to your exact measurements, from the most exquisite materials.”

“They left the cleavage open.”

The duchess smiled mischievously. “That’s how it’s supposed to be, silly.”

Gwen turned her gaze down to Anarietta, only a few inches taller than the duchess. “You are certainly spoiling me too much.”

“Of course I am,” the grey eyes brightened with a soft light, “you deserve only the best I can offer.”

Gwen took her by the cheek, a tender smile on her lips, fingers brushing the skin in soft circles. “I’ve got _you_.”

“Oh, getting so sentimental all of a sudden, are we?” Anarietta teased her, but her face gloomed with adoration. “Now, please, try it on at least.” 

“As you wish,” the witcheress let out a sigh and started to unbuckle her belt.

The duchess retreated to her chaise lounge in the other side of the room, laying herself on the side, head supported by the right rand, legs spread out comfortably, her own sleeping gown revealing the soft skin of her thighs. She reached out with her free hand to a table nearby, and brought a glass of red wine to her lips, observing the witcheress undressing with an attending gaze.

Gwen shoot the duchess a short look, as her own linen shirt fell to the floor, revealing soft pale skin and small, round breasts. “You are making a show of this,” she said, half critically, half amused.

Anarietta took a drink from her glass and set it out back on the table. “Of course I am.” She let out a smile, then stood up, and, with soft footprints echoing through the room, paced to her side.

“Because, my dear,” she took the witcheress by the chin, gazing into the hazel-brown eyes, “you are a sight to behold.”

Gwen smirked, turning her gaze away. “Stop it, or I’ll become smug.” She reached for the silk gown in an attempt to try it out, but Anarietta already took care of it, holding the clothing behind Gwen’s back, so she could slip in easily. 

“Let me help you.”

She obeyed, soft fabric sliding over her skin, incredibly light and, to her surprise, actually comfortable. 

The dutchess circled her with an observing look, fixing a crumbled sleeve here, brushing off a speck of a dust there, and then stopped, standing in front of the witcheress, with an apparent satisfaction in her face. “As I said.” She said approvingly. “You look extraordinarily pleasant, dear. The colour compliments your hair wonderfully.” She brought a mirror to Gwen’s face, letting her observe her new outfit.

Gwenuviel took a turn, the fabric swirling around her body. She looked… unusual. This was a very different kind of style apart from her usual armour. And, surprisingly, she liked it. The gown was certainly exquisite, made of finest materials, but with the witcheress’s likeness for simplicity in mind, it wasn’t over-done, the embroidery being soft and simple. Of course, the duchess had an excellent eye for detail, and had a golden raven sewn on both the sleeves, a personal emblem of Gwen’s. 

“Well?” Anarietta waited as the witcheress observed the gown critically. “What do you think?”

She took a long look into the mirror. “Not _bad_ ,” she said vaguely, just to tease the duchess.

Anarietta knew her well, though, and smirked at the noncommittal remark. “Of course. Glad you _love_ it.”

She left before Gwen could say anything, laying herself on the queen-sized bed, her right sleeve sliding off artfully, just enough to reveal a curve of her breast. “Well, then,” a playful look crossed her face, “shall we try it out, then?”

Gwen smirked, slowly crawling over her, lips almost touching, just so she could smell the soft floral perfume. “How could I deny you anything?”

The duchess took her by the cheek and pulled her down for a kiss. A mischievous smile brightened her face, a soft hum escaping the full lips as she tugged the witcheress closer. “Then don’t.”


End file.
